If I was a mountain

That soared towards the sky,

With craggy snow caps

And stormy grey eyes-



Then you'd be the clouds

That swaddled my peak,

That silenced my thunder

When I tried to speak.



If I was the earth

The desert, in fact:

With arid dry soil

And mud, baked and cracked-



You'd be the rain

The downpour that soothed;

The balm to my bruises,

Relief to my wounds.



If I was the Moon

In the indigo night,

With stars as my blanket

And silver; my light-



Well you'd be the Sun

Just always behind

That lent me your glow

And caused me to shine.

We're all stuck
In this panopticon
They promise us
Work will make us free
But they've lied about everything
So far
In the ***** ghettoes
Death was a fickle friend
My mom held me tight
And told me that everything
Would be just fine
But her last intake of breath
Was a poison
That overtook her lungs
And everything
Is not fine
And I'm starting to wonder
What freedom are they promising
It's ironic that our work should not
Make us free from these camps
But make us free from life

someone once told me,
"you're not one for drinking"
but there's a beer in my hand
because I've gotten sick of thinking
rather wake up with a twist
in my stomach
Oh, how was I to know
that highschool holds heartbreak
how was I to know
that college does too
no one ever told me
that home is not a place
it's a feeling inside you
which sometimes gets erased
these words taste sour
let's face it
I'm
hurting

The aftermath of the incident-
Which I’m sure no one saw coming-
I didn’t
But we’re all here now aren’t we?
The ones who worry,
Fearing they’ll miss the moment when my soul cracks-
The ones who drink
And the ones who listen,
It must be tiring, trying to force sound from silence-
But I’m not empty or lost
Not even angry or hurt
It’s a strange sense of calm
A tranquility
As I close my heart

If toys could speak,
I think they'd cry,
when left in the  basement,
to wither and die.

No longer needed,
not exciting,
not new,

that's why I feel like a toy,
whenever I think of you.

Life sparks between two ends
the moment of birth is also death
accept it now
we journey from one spark to the other.

Make the best between the connectors
and do not, whatever maybe,
short circuit that which rolls down
end to end. Shed light
as the circuit completes.Go bright.

Author Notes
Life and death as an electrical circuit.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 26 days ago

It was always a house of cards
I just don’t think any of us thought it would come down like this
I always wondered how it looked from the outside
‘Cause from the inside-
It’s a wonder anyone was ever fooled
I wonder how I was conned
How I thought that things-
No, no, no
You, were normal
That this was okay
Well, you can keep standing here
Pushing paper
Hoping to stop the winds of change
But my eyes are open
And I’m scattering your cards as I go

Broken conversations,
empty lungs,
doors half open,
hearts almost out of love.

We used to talk of how
we used to be infinite.
But now every second now feels
like a stroke against an unforgiving current.

Our conversations broke
as the flaws of our souls
fell through the cracks of this glass foundation.

These upset words that escaped you
left the air around me a little sad,
a little awake,
and with a lot of echoes.

My lungs went empty
talking you down.

I left the door open for you.
So you can walk in
and slip in quietly-
I won't say a word.

And this heart could never go empty,
not mine.
Yours,
at this point,
I know not.

Flowers never lost their color
as long as you walked this earth.